darlin' save the last dance for me
by karatam
Summary: Surprisingly, it wasn't dance that brought them together.


**Rating**: PG  
><strong>Pairin<strong>**g/Characters**: Brittany/Mike  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> none  
><strong>Word Length: <strong>3600**  
>Summary<strong>: Surprisingly, it wasn't dance that brought them together  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: All characters belong to Fox and Ryan Murphy. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this work of fiction.

/ /

When one thought of either Brittany or Mike, one thought immediately of dance.

Their bodies knew rhythm, movement, grace. They could feel the beat in any song, knew how to twist their bodies to keep pace with it. They were both very good looking people, but when they _moved_, they were _breathtaking_. It was their strength and they knew it. It was what bound them together in the eyes of their friends.

But that's not how they met.

/ /

It was a normal day. Mike got up when his mom opened the blinds in his room; he ate breakfast with his older brother; he took the bus to school; he sat in his normal chair.

Then there was a knock on the classroom door and Mr Richardson went to open it, accidentally smearing chalk all over his right eyebrow when he reached up to take off his glasses. A girl stepped through the doorway, clutching the straps of her backpack tightly and shifting from one foot to the other.

He had never seen a girl quite like her before. Her hair looked like actual sunshine, pale blonde and bright, and her eyes looked like the sky on the clearest summer day. They looked like the sky when he lay back on the grass in the field by his house, when the world seemed happy and easy.

Mr Richardson introduced her as Brittany and pointed her toward the empty seat to Mike's left. She walked over, sat down and pulled off her backpack, reaching inside to grab a fluffy blue pen and a pink notebook. She fiddled with her pen for a moment before looking over at him, her head tilted down a little like she was scared or something. He quickly pushed his glasses up his nose – he couldn't wait until he got rid of them, being labelled a nerd wasn't fun – and smiled at her. She smiled back at him and something in his chest felt all warm and tingly.

The teacher started to speak again and Mike focused his eyes on the blackboard for the rest of class.

In the classroom, with the teacher _right there_, kids acted differently than they did on the playground at recess, Mike knew this and he hoped Brittany knew it too. Being the new kid was never an easy thing to be.

Mike was standing with his friends, picking teams to play capture the flag, when he saw Brittany enter the playground, lunch box in hand. The groups of kids near her turned to watch her walk by before huddling together whispering loud enough that she could probably hear every word. He almost called out to ask if she wanted to join their game, but she was smiling as she set down her lunchbox by the fence, so he figured she was happy as she was for now. He turned back to his friends to help with final team selection when he heard it.

A high pitched yelp of pain followed by Dave's voice saying "You got a problem, new kid?"

They hadn't had a new kid in over six months, so Dave could only be talking to one person. Mike spun around to where Brittany had been standing. She was now sitting on the ground, her arms splayed out behind her. She was looking up at Dave and his buddies looming over her with a quivering bottom lip. She bit her lip and clenched her jaw, but the tears started anyways.

Dave smirked and stepped forward once again but Mike was already moving. He planted his hand in the middle of Dave's chest and pushed as hard as he could. Dave stumbled backwards into his buddies, knocking some of them to the ground.

Mike set his jaw and said, "Get out of here, Dave, before there really is a problem."

"Whatever, Mike," Dave sneered back at him, but he didn't move toward Mike again. "Come on, guys, let's go play basketball." With one last dirty look, the boys left. Mike didn't move, keeping an eye on them as they ran across the playground.

"You okay, Brittany?" He turned back to Brittany and crouched in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

She nodded hesitantly, "Yeah, I'm fine." There were still sniffles in her voice though, so he wasn't very convinced.

"I'm Mike, by the way." He straightened up and reached down a hand to help her up. When she got to her feet, she scrubbed her forearm across her eyes, smearing any tears into the sleeve of her sweater. Mike stepped a little closer, but slowly, kind of like how you're supposed to walk up to a baby sheep in a petting zoo. "Um, you want a hug, maybe? That always makes me feel better."

Brittany looked at him with watery eyes. "Yes, please."

Mike smiled and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, squeezing lightly, then a little harder when her arms came up around his back. After a few seconds, Mike pulled away and ducked his head a little bit to look at her face carefully. "Better?" he asked.

"Much," she replied, a real smile on her face. When he grinned back at her, she tilted her head slightly to the side. "You have wrinkles in your eyes when you smile."

Lifting a hand to press against his eye in worry, Mike just looked at Brittany with no small amount of confusion. "What?"

"No, here." She touched the corner of his eye, when his skin crinkled when he smiled. "I like it, it makes you look nice."

"Thanks, Brittany."

They stood there smiling at each other, her hand still on his face, her eyes looking up at him, and for one moment, he thought that maybe they could be friends. Maybe he could save her a seat in class and she could grab an extra popsicle for him. Maybe he could pick her first in gym class and she could invite him to her birthday party. Maybe they could be friends.

But then Puck started shouting about something about girls having cooties and Santana was pulling Brittany away by the arm before he could invite her to play capture the flag, and that was that. He was surrounded by his friends and had to crane his neck around to see Brittany glance at him before being blocked from sight by the other girls in their class.

Girls and boys weren't really allowed to be friends, anyway.

/ /

She danced in a studio, had since she could walk, practically. Her mother had enrolled her in ballet to try and get some of the energy out of her incredibly active daughter and Brittany had taken to it immediately.

Though she eventually moved to hip-hop and jazz from ballet (with a little help from one Rachel Berry), Brittany couldn't remember a time when dancing wasn't what she wanted to do more than anything.

When the music played, she could almost feel her heartbeat change to match the rhythm of the music and her body just knew what to do. It was as natural as breathing for her.

But when she danced, she always danced alone. No one her age at the studio could keep up with her and she couldn't seem to slow down.

/ /

They were partnered together for a biology project in eighth grade. They had to partner up with the person sitting beside them and when Brittany swivelled in her seat, grinning at him, Mike had to smile. They were supposed to build a diorama of an ecosystem and Brittany was really excited, Mike could tell.

"So, we're supposed to pick from this list: tropical, arctic, desert or wetland. You care which?" Mike asked, squinting down at the small print on the page and wishing he had brought his glasses that day. He just hating looking like a dork, especially in front of a girl like Brittany. She turned her sunny smile on him and he could feel his cheeks turning pink.

She tilted her head to the side, thinking it over. "Arctic, I think. They have igloos, right?"

"Well, I don't think the animals do, but they've got a lot of fur. They're all pretty fluffy."

And so, four hours and twenty-seven minutes later, Mike found himself trying to pull out bits of cotton fluff that had somehow been glued to Brittany's hair. He was trying as hard as he could to be gentle, but he really wasn't used to _that_ much hair; it curled around his fingers and floated up to tickle his nose sometimes. He didn't miss the subtle grimaces that flashed across Brittany's face when he pulled a little too hard.

"Sorry, Brittany, I didn't think the glue would dry that fast." He bent down a little bit, trying to get a good look at the latest knot.

"Maybe a glue and fluff war wasn't the best plan ever," she said. Mike couldn't help but laugh as he got another cotton ball out of her hair – this one was somehow covered in glitter.

When the last bit of fluff had been removed from blond hair, she turned around in her chair and reached up to tug at the globs of glue sitting in his short hair. He made a face at the light pulling at his scalp and she giggled, pulling her feet up off the ground with the movement.

The CD player in the corner of her room skipped to the next song and Brittany bounced in her chair, smiling as she started to sing along. Mike couldn't help but join in, though he would never admit to his friends that he actually knew all the words to the Spice Girls' "Stop". He paused when he noticed that Brittany was staring at him with her eyebrows furrowed and a confused frown on her lips. "What?"

"You really can't sing," she said, shaking her head.

Before he could respond, Brittany's mom called up from the kitchen, "You kids want something to eat? I made rice krispies."

At the mention of the offered treat, Brittany's face lit up and she stood quickly, knocking over the container of glitter – Mike wasn't sure why they needed purple glitter in a diorama about the arctic ecosystem, but didn't question its appearance – and the bottle of glue. He twisted around her and caught them before they hit the ground, knocking into her in the process. When the world finally righted itself, he found himself laying on top of Brittany, the glitter and glue clenched tightly in his hands.

He froze in place, not knowing what to do, and she just smiled up at him. "Thanks for saving my carpet from the glitter, Mike. My mom hates it because it gets everywhere."

Mike smiled tightly, and then his eyes went wide when she leaned up to brush a kiss against his cheek. He leaned his weight to one side and rolled until they were both laying side by side, staring up at her ceiling.

"There are ducks on your ceiling, Brittany." Mike said.

"I know! Aren't they the coolest?" Brittany replied, edging her hand over to twist their fingers together. She stood up then, pulling on his hand until he stood too. "Let's go eat some rice krispies."

Mike bent his head back to look at the ducks again as he let himself be pulled out of the room and toward the kitchen.

They got an A- on the project – apparently their teacher liked glitter – but then the seats were rearranged and Mike ended up partnered with Matt for the rest of the year.

/ /

Brittany knew that Quinn and Santana wanted to be cheerleaders. It was all the two of them had talked about since they started high school: joining Coach Sylvester's national championship team and lifting that trophy themselves someday. They looked at her sometimes, with expectations written and their eyes, and she would nod in response not really knowing what the question was.

When Sue discovered her talent for dance, she placed Brittany at the centre of almost all their routines during cheer camp. Brittany stopped caring about squad politics and how her friends were changing in ways she wasn't following and just let herself get lost in the dance.

/ /

He was pretty sure he didn't know a single person in the room.

Mike stood in the corner, next to a potted plant, with a sweating bottle of beer clutched in his left hand. He had taken maybe one sip of his drink so far and was merely cursing the names of both Finn and Matt, who had dragged him to this party the night training camp ended.

His parents asked him that summer what extra-curricular activity he wanted to sign up for over the break. He wanted to say dance – he wanted to so badly – but in the eyes of his parents, dance wasn't good enough. So he said football, just like most of the other boys in his class.

Standing in the Lima community centre outdoor field, passing the football back and forth, learning how to block properly, how to tackle, how to run play, Mike would look up at the blue blue sky and wish he was a little bit braver.

He wasn't really the drinking type, but bailing on your boys was against the rules, so he stuck around anyways. Just as he bent over the potted plant to determine whether it was real or fake, he saw white sneakers enter his vision.

"Are you about to eat that plant?" Brittany was holding a full shot glass in one hand and a mostly empty beer bottle in the other.

"Uh no," Mike said, noticing that he was actually holding one of the leaves in his hand and letting go quickly. He straightened and stuck his free hand into his pocket, thumb hooking through his belt loop.

"Is that your first beer?" She motioned with her shot glass, frowning slightly when a bit of liquid spilled over the edge and onto her thumb. Mike tried not to stare when she licked it off.

"Yes." He thought it tasted too bitter, but everyone else seemed to like it.

"Oh, then you just got here?"

"No, I came with Finn and Matt a while ago, but I don't know where they went."

Brittany twisted around and tapped her bottom lip with her finger. "I think Finn is trying to make out with Quinn outside – he'll never make it – and Matt is playing beer pong in the back yard." She turned around again to face him and smiled.

"You like that stuff?" He nodded at the shot glass in her hand.

She looked down at it and made a little face. "No, not really, but all the girls are drinking it, so." She looked over at the group of Cheerios throwing back shots and shrugged at him as if to say _what can you do?_

"Right, well, they're probably waiting for you, Brittany." He gestured with his bottle to the door to the backyard. "I'll just try to find Matt and join him or something."

Then the music changed to something with a booming bass beat and suddenly the room exploded. Everyone rushed to the open space that had spontaneously been designated the dance floor and started to jump up and down.

Brittany turned to him with bright eyes and a smile. "Let's go dance, Mike."

He didn't dance, not really.

Every once in a while, when his older brother played MTV loud enough that he could hear it in his room, he'd stand in front of the mirror and just let his body go. He'd study the moves he went through for a while but eventually his eyes would close and he'd lose himself in the beat of the music.

The thought of dancing where other people could watch him made his throat close up and his hands tremble. He clutched his beer bottle a little tighter to stop it from shaking.

He cleared his throat and managed to stammer a reply, "Uh, no, Brittany. I'm good here."

Her face fell, glancing over her shoulder that everyone else dancing before looking at him with eyes that seemed just a little disappointed. "Oh, okay." She rubbed at her eyebrow with the hand holding the beer bottle, smearing small droplets across her cheek. It made it look like she was crying and Mike wanted to change his mind. He wanted to grab her hand and pull her onto the dance floor and just let go, but he couldn't, not yet, anyways.

He smiled tightly at her, cursing his lack of courage as she gave him a little wave and turned to join her fellow Cheerios on the floor. He took a large swallow of his beer, grimacing at the bitter taste. Then he turned and left the room to go find Matt in the backyard.

/ /

When Quinn ordered her to join Glee club in order to destroy it from the inside and get Finn back, Brittany didn't really have any choice but to say yes. At first it was easy to follow Sue's orders and sow the seeds to discontent, but then Brittany started to like it.

She started liking breaking into spontaneous harmonies, making up dance choreography on the fly, and even being around the people formerly dismissed as the lowest rung on the ladder. It was _fun_, and let her sing and dance to her heart's content without having to fear backstabbing and physical harm like on the Cheerios.

One thing that confused her was the fact that Mike Chang was there. She had heard him sing before and it kind of sounded like her cat when they tried to give him a bath, but worse. Mr Schue didn't hold auditions, but she wondered if he had even listened to Mike at all. Probably not.

/ /

When Mike walked into the choir room behind Puck and Matt for the first time, he was kind of relieved. He had wanted to sign up when the audition sheet went up a while back, but knew slushie facials and trips to the dumpster were in store for him if he did. But with both Finn and Puck in Glee, he stood a chance.

He had never danced in public before, but maybe it was time to start.

So when the music of "It's My Life/Confessions" faded and the boys were left standing on stage with their fists raised into air, Mike felt alive for the first time in a long time. He could feel his blood pumping in his ears and his body felt loose and free. He couldn't help the smile on his face as the girls cheered and clapped.

Brittany bounded over the Mike, who was still panting slightly with a grin spread across his mouth. She threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged tightly enough to make him lose his breath.

Though really, he always felt a little breathless around her.

"You can dance?" Her voice was awed and a little breathier than normal. She pulled back to look him in the eye, her arms remaining around his neck. "You can _dance_." Her eyes were wide and the smile on her face looked like it would hurt her cheeks.

"Yeah, I guess I'm alright." He wanted to duck his head and avoid her gaze, he could feel that blush starting could again, but she was standing to close; their foreheads were nearly touching.

"Mike, you're amazing." And he believed her, because when she was looking at him with those summer blue eyes, how could he doubt her?

/ /

Mike gave the best hugs, Brittany had determined.

Sure, she had made out with a lot of people in school, but she'd hugged even more and Mike had always been the best. His arms just wrapped her up and squeezed just the right amount and he always smelled good (not like that nasty body spray so many of the boys were wearing).

So when he walked into the room with Matt after the clock hit half past three, she couldn't help but walk up to him and throw her arms around his neck, smiling so much it hurt. His arms came up around her back and his head dipped to press into her shoulder for a moment.

"I'm so happy you came, Mike," she whispered into his ear, just for him to hear.

"How could I stay away?" She could feel him smile into her skin as he gave her once last squeeze before pulling away to smile at her.

She stepped back to grasp his hand and tug him toward to the rest of Glee, seeing Santana doing the same with Matt. When they stopped, she dropped his hand to slip it around his waist and his arm mirrored her actions.

When Puck walked in moments later, Brittany looked up a little to smile at Mike again and he turned his head to smile right back. There was that eye crinkle again.

/ /

And just like that they became partners, a pair whose movements mirrored and complimented each other. When they danced together it was easy; every step, every gesture meant something, said something in a language that only they knew.

Dance might not have brought them together initially, but it was what made them what they were: friends.


End file.
